


Heart-Shaped Abyss

by Mieldyne



Category: Final Fantasy IV
Genre: Blood As Lube, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, M/M, Mind Control, Painful Sex, Psychological Horror, Unwilling Arousal, rapist pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-28 06:51:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19388758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mieldyne/pseuds/Mieldyne
Summary: Kain never knew how much his heart is seeping darkness, until his eyes are forcibly opened. Seeing the world in a different shade, he watches himself take what he’s wanted the most.





	Heart-Shaped Abyss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MarsDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarsDragon/gifts).



****Kain would have protested just a little more, if he wasn’t waist deep in darkness that he never knew was in him. The darkness being alive and dragging him under, who has a voice and a name - Golbez. He was smitten since the day he returned to Baron, battered and burnt, and had his eyes fall upon the sorcerer. He never felt so lost and yet so awake at the same time, being able to feel the bottled hate, betrayal and jealousy… of Cecil. It scared him, with the dark mage not even lifting a finger to evoke these emotions. Golbez did not put them there, nor did he force Kain to say yes. He didn’t need to.

Kain had crawled into Golbez’ clutches and feeding into the darkness growing within. Things that were just mild and kept under wraps, with Kain not wishing to upset his friend. Yet, the feelings were there, and something about this warlock made them come to the surface, helping Kain into the violent rage he shown Fabul. He realizes too late that he had allowed himself to become ensnared in the web he failed to see before him. Golbez latches onto his mind, speaking directly to his soul and damn near yanked him towards the monster he became. He didn’t even fight it as if he wanted this in some small, deranged part of him.

_They never stood a chance against you._

The attack on Fabul was too easy,laughably so, as the sheer force of Baron’s new army was too much for the city of warrior monks to handle. Though they tried their damnedest to defend it, the Wind Crystal was seized. But in his mind, the crystal was just another damn rock, not even important to him at all, just what his _master_ wished for. With some kind of silent glee he had forced his way into the chamber and past the group of rebels defending it.

The real prize had stood before him, glaring at him from under ebony armor.

A devil that he had wished to conquer a long time ago, but chose to keep those dark urges to himself. Kain knew then as he knows now: it was wrong, made him feel damned or at least more so than how his _dear friend_ had thought of himself. A Dark Knight’s training skirts along the thin line between using the shadows for just and falling into Hell, becoming consumed by evil. Somehow, that man has survived this long without allowing it to overtake him completely, even if Rosa could tell how much it was eating away at him. 

Perhaps, by defeating him in battle and taking him by force, Kain has saved him.

_Take him._

His master was pleased with the crystal and with his little dragoon’s performance, caressing his fair skin with artificial claws. Kain has never seen the man without his armor, let alone his helmet, so a hint of fear grew in his heart about what sort of man he let trap him. He can’t turn away, yet would he have tried if he could? Golbez’ voice still slithers along his ears, telling him to enjoy his prize to its fullest. Kain has earned this, he wanted this more than anything, including the woman he thought he desired. But he wanted Cecil more. His Master told him that he could have Cecil if he went to Fabul, if he marched into the crystal chamber in person and defeated him. His love for his friend had turned into something more before they were separated, yet Kain never had a chance to bring it up. He may not have wanted to, but the madness in him that boiled over the surface because of Golbez’ influence and control - what he willingly gave, _nearly_ \- had him no longer care.

Fabul couldn’t stop him. Rosa couldn’t stop him. 

Cecil is his.

. . .

“Kain…”

He gives no answer to Cecil, who is forced to stand before him in tight restraints. Kain did his best to make his former comrade comfortable yet the knight was resisting the entire time. Golbez had chuckled at this display before allowing Kain to be alone with him, giving him everything he needed to get all he could out of this opportunity.

_Do what you will of him._

Cecil’s shadowy armor is unable to protect him from the emotional turmoil that he’s been put through ever since his defeat and subsequent capture. Though he feigns bravery, doubt is already latched onto his mind after being told lies. Which he believes they are, yet gives away the hurt in his eyes once Kain removes his helmet. Silver hair spills out around pale, untouched skin and jewel-like eyes. It’s… been a while since he’s seen Cecil’s face entirely, yet he’s still just as beautiful as he was before accepting his curse.

“How could you do this? Betray us?” Cecil barks out, but his voice is dampened by his wounded heart. He doesn’t sound like the man that stood up to the King of Baron anymore, more broken than he was before. It hurts Kain, still awake yet trapped in his own mind, to hear this, see the results of the pain he caused.

_This is what you wanted all along._

“Us? There is no us, as you can see… no one is coming for you.”

Cecil was told they have been at this little game for days, perhaps even weeks. Kain knows the actual time was much less than this, yet it mattered little so long as the object of his obsession is here. Of course parts of him are screaming even when his body and expression tell otherwise. The things he plans on doing to Cecil is nothing but horrendous, damning him further and leaves him mentally clawing at himself to no avail. He is so scared of what he’s becoming, what Cecil may not know and hopes to the gods that he may _never_ know. Forgiveness is far from him, especially as he watches himself touch his beloved.

The Dark Knight’s body won’t sit still, as he angrily tries his binds again, apparently not caring how much he knows that won’t work. Kain can see a fierceness in this man’s eyes once again, screaming about how he just could not _believe_ Kain is doing this.

It’s not like him.

_It is like you. All you needed was a little… push._

“You need to stop this, Kain!” He hears Cecil’s voice, angered yet hurt and obviously concerned for his friend. But the Dragoon’s body moves again, sliding his bare fingers along Cecil’s cheek and drawing himself close to their captive. His Cecil, _his_ -

“You’re not yourself-” 

He’s staring down his former friend, as he’s certain that Cecil wouldn’t take him back after this. They’re so close that Kain can feel the younger man’s breath, perhaps hear his pulse quickening once more and the stress of the binds upon his knight. Eventually, Kain realizes that he’s no longer looking _at_ Cecil, but _through_ him.

“ _Do you seriously think that the man you knew didn’t have another face? One that he didn’t show to even you?_ ”

Those… are not his words. It’s coming from his lips, but those are definitely not words that Kain would have said if he had even an ounce of control. Was he told to say it? No, his master was in another room, so without being near how could he…? Somehow, Kain can feel those clawed hands kneading into his mind, tangling with him and forcing his body to react. His skin heats up from the alien feeling of hands trailing along his skin even as it’s covered. Against his will he mimics the patterns onto his captive, silencing him with a hand around his neck and hearing that pathetic gasp in shock. Oh, if he wanted to he could just squeeze tighter and tighter, eventually crushing-

“ _No!_ ” Kain cries out, tearing his face away from Cecil’s as darker thoughts run though his head. He can just _feel_ the chuckle from the deep parts of his mind, it sounds like him but it just _isn’t_. He wouldn’t dare hurt Cecil so badly, would he? Outside of friendly sparring and training, there was no reason why he would even attack his dear, dear friend. Cecil isn’t resisting anymore and whispers so sweetly to him now, reminding him of times where they would calm the other down during the storm. Encouraging the other, make being isolated from something terrible happening so close to their domain not so bad.

Not when Cecil is here.

Where he belongs.

“Kain, you’re in there… and I hear you.” The knight’s voice is focused, soothing to his ears as his breath hitches when he gets close. Even with all this armor on he’s still that delightfully warm person that he’s known all these years. Despite hiding away behind such a wicked mask and endures endless torture just for the power to protect others. Yes, Kain can tell just why others want him, how _he_ wants him. Perhaps even his master trailing behind him, hiding away within his own shadow wants Cecil.

_He is yours._

“I know you’re stronger than this, you don’t mean to do any of this…” 

_Take him._

With careful yet swift fingers does Kain remove his own helmet to lean even closer to his prize and take it. Cecil’s lips are captured in his own, coaxing the smaller man to tilt his head back, exposing more of that creamy neck. He can fight it all he wants, it’s only stalling the inevitable and, perhaps, prolong Cecil’s suffering. It doesn’t have to be this way at all, he has some control, right? He broke through once so he can do it again! But he’s focusing as much as he can, just like his training had taught him, yet his body still moves against his wishes. Piece by piece, he’s stripping his now writhing captive once again, focusing on removing as many of the hard obtrusions as possible. Some kind of _hunger_ in him is being made to salivate at the prospect of being closer to the Dark Knight. 

“N-No! Stop, Kain!!” 

He doesn’t hear him, his face buried into that beautiful neck, lips and teeth flush against the pulsing jugular there. Kain is screaming again but his mouth makes no other sound than pleasing growls, wanting more and warning Cecil to be still or he’ll suffer. He… doesn’t want that at all. Cecil deserves better than this, to be treated with respect and love and- this. _This_ is not either. The way he’s carelessly stripping his friend of not just his armor but his dignity and composure. The way he can hear himself say more words that he did not wish to say. The way his knee slides up between Cecil’s thighs and rub between them. The way that he grasps onto the retreating knight’s hips and rake along the black chausses protecting his legs.

It’s not him. Yet he wants. It’s terrible, he must be a monster. 

_A wolf among the sheep._

All this time? These feelings aren’t so foreign, of longing and lust. Both are so different yet at this time, as he hears Cecil rattle his chains, is all the same. He really _is_ a monster! But he doesn’t stop, _can’t_ stop. His master is surely bemused by his hopeless defiance, which may be more of an act of denial. Of what he really is, the vile thing that Cecil is now looking at in fear. Those clawed hands come back, having Kain relax his shoulders and glide their bodies against one another. For a moment he can just feel something tug at his golden hair, making him feel crushed against Cecil now. Someone is at his backside, yet he knows they are alone, Golbez had left them alone, to reward his lovely new servant. It’s not like the warlock couldn’t get his fill of whatever he wishes from Kain whenever he likes. At any other time. Not now.

Deep violet eyes close as the owner rocks against Cecil, straining his bonds and spreading his legs further. The sounds coming from his mouth, his scent, the heat from his body is something divine, so unlike what a man cloaked in shadow should have any right having. Yet Kain feels the pain in his heart seeing Cecil fight him as he gives into his carnal desires again - again, are these entirely his own? - until the knight is standing bare against the metal pillar. Not a single scar or blemish upon his milky skin, no imperfection to destroy his pure form. It’s been a long time since Kain had seen his friend in such a way, fully exposed to the world. The innocence that he had lost and kept locked away, yet unable to retrieve.

“Kain, please…” Cecil breathes out in defeat, shaking from seemingly holding back anger. 

“Wake up!”

_But you are awake. And your lust cannot wait any longer._

_Feed it._

The Kain on the inside would have destroyed anything that turned this one dignified man into the vulnerable mess he is now. Kain feels he should not be exempt from this vow. Shackles are released and chains fell to the cold floor, which made way for Cecil to remind his _former comrade_ that, even if he’s been disarmed he is _not_ helpless. But of course Kain anticipated this, and somewhere his master is watching, too. Laughing and hushing the warrior as he guides him to the only bed in the room. Stiff and uncomfortable, yet it will have to do in this situation. By now the Dragoon can feel himself hard and pressing against the codpiece of his armor, unlike the still mostly flaccid Cecil. 

“ _You will feel everything I give you. You won’t have a moment where you’re not feeling my warmth inside you._ ” Again, words Kain _swears_ that aren’t his, and the more he fights it, the louder the voice gets. The heavier his own mind crushes him against his will, unable to reach himself and stop his body. The world is bright as if the man below him is illuminating it like the moons hung in the night sky. After all this time of trying to get some sense into Kain with words, Cecil continues to actively try and knock it into him physically. And he lets him, kicking and thrashing against him and yet does no good. The Dark Knight gets a few good hits in, using the chain locking his wrists together as a makeshift weapon and clocking Kain alongside the temple. It hurt, yes, and he can feel that will leave a bruise eventually, yet it didn’t matter. At the very least he wishes for the one who controls him to take it easy on Cecil, to not break him or seriously hurt him.

_That’s not what you want._

Yes. It’s not. He had many chances to get Cecil to cooperate and all times have failed, ending in his friend refusing to acknowledge his place. The captive, the victim, the conquered. Over all this time Cecil didn’t even know - or at least refused to believe - that any part of Kain may have wanted to do this to him. 

“You’re making this harder for yourself.” Out of everything that he wishes to say, _these_ are the words that Golbez allowed him to speak. Kain uses his weight to pin down the angered, wrything male below, while using an arm to reach between them and release the protection over his stiff cock. He knows that man controlling him is aware this won’t be good for either of them, especially Cecil. He knows that he can easily overpower Cecil no matter how good of an effort he puts in, and it’s all his own strength as well, nothing more that Golbez would give him if he could. It’s horrible either way.

Kain gives out a silent scream as his body moves quickly, the Dark Knight’s flailing dying down and flashes of silver and red cross his vision. He’s being forced to hurt his beloved, and no matter how much he tries he just cannot stop. It doesn’t take much to get Cecil reluctantly compliant anymore, legs hooked over the Dragoon’s still armored thighs and cut by sharp edges and spikes decorating it. In some kind of sick way this is a gift from Golbez, a way to make it easier without forcing himself into Cecil dry. How thoughtful his master is…

He’s close again, yet Kain knows he isn’t there. It’s just the two of them and the shadow that bears weight upon his backside, touching him with unseen hands and curling claws around his hair and jaw. Do it. The command isn’t even spoken and yet his body complies once more, his lips finding Cecil’s again and isn’t surprised he’s bitten this time. Good, Cecil. Don’t give in, _please_. Even though it does nothing to stop the Dragoon’s assault. Kain takes the smaller man’s wrists and push them above his head, looping the chain over one of the long metal bedposts a couple of times. The links tangle around it tight and slide down to the mattress, requiring the captive to be able to lift himself off of it and without his former ally laying on top of him. He’ll just have to helplessly watch as the same ally uses his blood to moisten his clenched sphincter, pushing and working against him. Kain can feel the discomfort, but his fingers push in deeper as he hears his voice whispering sweet nothings to Cecil as if they were lovers.

_Beautiful. Mine. Good boy. Lay still. Take it._

The words sound like commands of both anger and pleasure, and his own body still is aroused by it all. Something he feels that is not entirely the fault of Golbez’s tight hold of him, digging inside him. He isn’t so proud to say that he never doubted himself, as he had done so plenty of times in the past. But this time he’s shown that, perhaps, he’s always been out for only his gain, reminded that he didn’t even _try_ to fight Golbez. He _let_ that man into his mind and to control him, openly denying to himself that he did not, in any way, want this. Of course, not how it is now, as he tries to pry the Dark Knight’s mouth open. Two fingers in and still, the space within Cecil is tight and he’s not relaxing anytime soon.

But his master does not care.

Kain’s body has to remove the fingers to quickly use more blood on himself, deciding that it’s good enough. Guiding his stiff cock, he presses against the ill-prepared man below, his silver tresses flung over his face from his thrashing. He tried to make it pleasurable for Cecil, clawing at his own mind for control as he hears it. The scream of his childhood friend after feeling himself get penetrated, with some difficulty. The Dragoon holds him close, tasting his skin once more and leaves trailing kisses down his throat and chest.

“I’ve always wanted you.” Oh how _angered_ he feels to be made to reveal his feelings this way, even if Cecil doesn’t believe it. He’s being told to give in, to just indulge in his dark fantasies as their prize isn’t going anywhere. Their? No, Cecil is no one’s but… his. That train of thought came from himself unprompted, right? Horrible. He quickens his pace - he has no choice - thrusting continuously to open his partner up while forcing him to look at him.

_Look at me._

Cecil is in pain, more than the discomfort that his aggressor is feeling trying to fuck him without any kind of preparation or willing cooperation from his partner. Kain can’t help. His body is out of reach to him and himself, a prisoner in his own mind, is still watching helplessly. Maybe if he accepted that this is what he allowed to happen a long time ago and just _enjoyed yourself, Kain_ then perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. He’s the cause of this, hearing another shrill cry from the man who once put his life in his trusted hands many times before. Now? Never again. Long fingers dig into the knight’s sides, legs curled around him going tense as those pale thighs nearly meet with the owner’s matching chest. His hips snap up, sheathing himself entire into Cecil and lets out pleasured moans while his beloved’s voice dies down once he stops. _Not for long, dear._

It’s long, painful and definitely caused a little more bloodshed on Cecil’s part, who has tired out his voice from his screaming. Not that he could use it properly after Kain’s hands wrap around his throat again, dark eyes leering down with the most sadistic grin painted on his face. As his body ravishes the captive’s seemingly immaculate form, he destroys him from the inside with each fleshy slap of their hips colliding together. He’s almost cackling mad on the inside from having to witness _himself_ bring an end to this man who did not deserve a mockery of love this may be. It’s anything but, and just short of killing the both of them. But Golbez, with ghostly stokes to his crown and down his spine, assures his loyal servant that their plaything will live. Kain feels his grip fall loose, allowing Cecil to breath once more and heave in gulps of air. His body looks to be reacting on its own, his own cock having grown hard against the cold plates of Kain’s cuirass. Yet, at this time Kain isn’t allowed to acknowledge it, not without his puppeteer commanding him to do so.

The damage is done, not even a few minutes later as Kain quickly exhausts himself fucking Cecil into the mattress itself. He’s back to giving Cecil trails of unwanted kisses as he slows down, made to savor the very moment that he fills his partner up and marks the Dark Knight in a way his master wants him to. He can’t hear his prize’s words anymore, only hard panting, groaning as he’s held still while Kain leaves his seed within him. Some of it pours out as well as fresh blood from the tearing he’s certain happened during his attack. He wishes that Golbez would at least allow him to clean Cecil, perhaps clothe him as well, just to give him some form of dignity back.

_ You like the way he looks, broken and used. _

Kain is staring down at the very exhausted warrior below once more, his body appearing quite satisfied with what he had done. A lesson must have been had here, for no matter how much fight either of them had, Golbez had his way. If he cooperates, things may get better. If Kain gives in and admits to  _ liking _ this - which still very well be true - and willingly go along with it instead of the inward fighting… Perhaps this could have turned out bitter, but so much better. The deep voice of Golbez voices his approval, relaxing his grip on Kain just enough that the warrior could dart off to grab bandages, water, potions… anything to ease his friend’s pain, no matter if he’ll be forgiven. He really doesn’t deserve it.

As he does so, returning quickly with a small basin of water to sponge Cecil down. The man doesn’t even look at him and not completely motionless, as even now the man resists. But the fires have died down in him, Kain could tell that after everything, he’s just in too much pain, physical but especially  _ emotional _ , to bother. It’s only until Kain reaches over him, returning to the position he had before and still gazing down with that same hunger. The one that he swore was planted in his mind and not of his own. Where Kain’s body betrays him again, with or without Golbez’ wicked laughter as his influence takes over. Only then does Cecil speak with vitriol.

“You’re a monster.”

_ He’ll not fight you any longer. _

And Kain is lost again.


End file.
